


Put Out or Shut Up

by ArcticWolvesInLove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkward Derek, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Jealous Derek, M/M, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Pining, Pining Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 16:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13275081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcticWolvesInLove/pseuds/ArcticWolvesInLove
Summary: Derek decides he's tired of Stiles flirting and tries to call him out, when it doesn't work quite like he hoped, the pack takes it upon themselves to get involved.





	Put Out or Shut Up

**Author's Note:**

> If you're currently reading Once Bitten, don't fret! That story is still going, I just had this little baby in my phone and what was meant to be just a little added on turned into this monster. Enjoy!

The first time Derek dares make a move, it fails. Stiles is 24 and for years the guy had dropped snarky but flirty comments. He and Scott's pack were hanging around the loft all day and when everyone departed, Stiles had stayed. Something he'd been doing a lot of lately, just spending time alone with Derek ever since he finished up college.

Derek was puttering around his kitchen and had yawned, stretching his arms up and felt his shirt rise, revealing his toned stomach. The smell of Stiles arousal had a habit of hitting him like a train and the guy had been buzzing all day, mentioning Derek's ass, his arms, his face. So when Stiles said 'That's a washboard I'd like to be rung out on', Derek kind of lost his cool.

"Put out or shut up," he'd snapped as he stripped the shirt off. He'd turned to face Stiles head on, eyes locking with the other male, daring him. He'd regret it instantly but held strong and those 4 seconds of silence were the longest of his entire life.

And then...

"Oh man!" Stiles bellowed, practically doubling over. "I almost thought you were serious there!"

Derek chuckled, brushing it off like his heart wasn't hammering out of his chest. It was then he was thankful Stiles chose to remain human.

This God awful _thing_ he had for Stiles (it's not a crush, he refused to call it that) had only officially plagued him for two years. The summer when Stiles was 22 he'd convinced the pack to go out to the bar together when he was visiting from school.

The place was almost 4 hours away and it turned out that it was owned by an emissary who had found a way to get werewolves drunk, or any were-type creature who's metabolism prevented their drunkenness. Stiles had apparently made a friend while off in school and Derek didn't know why it annoyed him that the bartending emissary smelled like Stiles so much, but did it ever.

He was 4 drinks in and his skin felt hot, his mind fuzzy but it was good, it was real good. His problem was he didn't know why he let himself be talked into getting drunk, why Stiles was so adamant about it since Derek had never had the opportunity. He found he had this odd habit of listening to Stiles more now when the guy was around and visiting.

And somewhere between being handed his 5th drink and the bottom of the glass, it happened. The emissary -Todd? Tedd? Tim, something?- was pressed in next to Stiles, a smirk cracking his dark lips that brushed ever so slightly against the shell of Stiles ear. Stiles broke out in a grin and drew back, like he was sizing the guy up and then he smirked and said something back. It took Derek an embarrassingly long moment to realize he could have used his ears to hear what was said but his gaze was fixated upon the stretch of Stiles throat when he threw his head back and laughed.

A growl rumbled deep in Derek's chest when the emissary skimmed his knuckles along Stiles arm, eyes focused and hooded. That's how it went slamming into Derek like a pole -Your jokes aren't funny Derek, Stiles would have commented-.

He knew he was completely and totally, fucked and not in the nice way, might he add. Stiles eyes had found him right in that moment and he'd smiled, nodded his head slightly and Derek's entire body burned right then, like he'd been caught doing what he shouldn't. Since he didn't know how long this feeling had been residing in him, maybe he should burn, that had been his first thought.

Of course Erica had to be the first to notice and of course it had to be in that bar, about 42 seconds after Derek had noticed. She'd plopped next to him, drink in hand, and rested her head on his shoulder. She was the most affectionate with him over the years, her and Boyd still looked at him as their alpha despite that Scott made a place in his pack for them.

"He looks good, doesn't he? Now that he's filled out and walks in his skin like he belongs," she spoke softly, as though afraid she'd scare him away.  
  
"What're you talking about," he stuttered, heart jack hammering because it was the first thing he'd thought to say.

"It's okay," she'd smiled, her cheek pressing more into his shoulder. "He's a grown up, doing grown up things, making grown up decisions. In fact," she sat up, looked at Derek and then back at Stiles. "He's probably older then you emotionally at this point, considering all that's happened since he was brought into this life."

Derek swallowed and slammed the last of his drink down, he begged his mind to find a way to shut her up, to stop whatever ridiculous thought she was having.

"Derek," she said quietly and he turned slightly to look at her, her expression was soft. "Sometimes we love people, even when we think it's wrong, but this isn't wrong."

Erica had sauntered off to dance with Kira and Malia right then and Derek had stopped breathing.

Love? There was just no way.

  
It turned out though, Erica knew, and Derek had spent the last two years trying not to think about Stiles and failing miserably. At first his thoughts felt dirty, disgusting because he'd wanted to bite, lick, kiss, every inch of skin on Stiles body and then one day he wanted to just touch. Hold his hand, hold him, press in close and feel him breathing and warm. And then.... He wanted more, so much more, and he felt raw and empty when he imagined things like Stiles moving in, like making him breakfast in bed, like kissing him goodbye in the morning before work.

Isaac noticed next and he'd punched Derek, literally because he'd smelt his scent go from want and need, to soured guilt.  
"Stop," he berated. "Whatever it is you're thinking, stop."

Lydia was next, although he was sure Erica told Boyd and Isaac told Allison, but as for direct people Lydia was the worst.

"He's 23, no one can make Stiles do something he doesn't want, and you aren't Kate." Because of course she knew, of course Lydia had put that together because she was ridiculously brilliant. Derek both respected and hated her in that moment and then she'd touched his arm, eyes softening. "He's able to make his own decisions, grown up enough to understand right and wrong, he's been able to since he was 17. Don't let the age thing ruin it."

Ruin what, he'd wanted to ask, but she'd flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked out of the loft.

What surprised him, and really shouldn't have, was Scott had noticed and first cornered and then pinned him to a wall. Derek could have fought him, but wanted to know what his deal was.

"Stiles is still my best friend, my brother, his dad and him have been my family. I don't know what it is, I don't want to know, but if it's something stupid you need out of your system, find a way that doesn't involve him because if he gets hurt, I'll kill you."

Derek had wanted to argue, fight and Erica had seen what was happening but he'd waved her off, she lingered nearby. Scott spoke again, "I'm glad it's you, you aren't my favorite but...it could be someone a lot worse."

That's when Derek had finally, finally allowed himself to think about it and yes, apparently somewhere between dying and surviving Beacon Hills he'd fallen for the younger man. He was totally and completely, utterly, entirely fucked. And he shouldn't have to remind anyone that it was not in the nice way.

It was awhile before Stiles flirting had finally pushed him to lash out and when he'd laughed it off, Derek was mortified and didn't do anything with the pack for nearly a month.

Cue his second attempt to make a move.

Stiles showed up alone on what was supposed to be a pack night, he'd been texting Derek all day but the wolf never replied so it didn't seem like a big deal.

"All right big guy," Stiles burst in with a backpack slung over his shoulder. He was wearing his glasses and Derek hated the way he burned to just caress his fingers across Stiles cheek. Stiles hadn't liked his glasses when he found out he needed them, he whined and complained and swore an oath that he'd wear contacts until he died but when he'd learned how uncomfortable they were to put in and how often he fell asleep with them in, well... Stiles wore his glasses when he was to tired or just relaxing. Which of course didn't help Derek's.... _thing_ one bit because when Stiles was tired or relaxed he smelt better then ever. It reminded the wolf of when Laura would sneak up on him, whisper 'dog pile' and Derek could never move fast enough to avoid his younger siblings and cousins. They'd launch from seemingly every direction and he'd wind up covered in a smell he could only describe as home.

"I have popcorn, that weird "healthy" candy you like," he made air quotes as he spoke the word. "I mean honestly can you even call it candy when it's made of fruit? I feel like you just wanna ruin chocolate, break my heart and what not."

He keeps going, babbling on how Derek is so terrible even after he cracks a joke about dogs and chocolate, he's unloading his pack still and there's movies and more popcorn and then he pulls out a bottle of the werewolf intended alcohol and Derek growls.

"Are you still pissy since you got sick?" he smirks and twirls the bottle around, Derek gets a whiff of the emissary that makes it and just knows his eyes flash.

"No," he grits and steps forward.

"You look unhappy DH," Stiles cocks his head to the side, Derek's initials slipping off his tongue.

"I'm fine," he lies and before Stiles can say anything he tells him to toss him the chocolate orange and asks what movies he brought.

They get through two movies, four beers for Stiles and two cups of the werewolf alcohol for Derek, more then half the candy and then after Stiles settles back in next to the wolf he realizes how close they are. Stiles is warm, which Derek thinks says a lot because werewolves run a little hotter then humans do but he feels the vibration of Stiles laugh and he just... he wants. Although he settles for tentatively placing an arm around his shoulders, it isn't a stretch but it's been awhile and he's starting to feel wound up. Then Stiles settles in closer with a sigh and Derek preens, every bit of wolf instinct is lit up at the prospect that its interest is showing interest.

That's when he makes his stupid, dumb ass, idiotic move and leans into him, into his neck and breathes. His free hand reaches up slowly, gauging if Stiles will draw back and touches his face, strokes a finger down the side of his neck. Stiles first tilts his head, letting Derek in more and then leans into his touch, shutters at the caress and then his eyes find Derek's. In the shimmering golden hue that's he's staring into Derek can see when his own eyes light up blue. It's a fraction, small implication when he leans forward and Stiles grins and Derek thinks finally, finally it's right.

Only...

"It's okay big guy," Stiles reaches up and grabs the back of Derek's neck. "Get a long inhale."

Derek is...confused and knows his eyebrows express that.

"Scott was like that in college, whenever we didn't see each other for to long he'd have to touch me, smell me, make sure I still smelt like pack and that my scent was still with him."

Derek would like to know what he did in his past life, he wants to believe he's done enough to make up for all he'd done in this lifetime so what had he done before that he can't have this? That all he can seem to attract are those hell bent on vengeance or longing to eliminate..

"What," he says dumbly as he draws back. Stiles scrubs a hand through the back of his hair, eyes casting down.

"I know you've been needing some space but I thought you could use a little pack at least, for scenting sake." His heart does a funny patter as it speeds up but Derek pays no never mind, he's so focused on how he was going to kiss him and all Stiles was trying to do was bond as a pack.

The evening is quiet and a little tense after that, Stiles leaves and Derek forces himself to shower so he doesn't try to hold onto the younger males scent.

It's the last time he'll try, Derek swears, and Erica, Lydia and Allison insist that three is the charm but he can't bring himself to that, Stiles sees him as pack. He can't risk losing him that way.

Of course Scott has other plans and storms in a few weeks later, wants to know what changed and why Derek refuses to try again. _Damn Allison and her big mouth_ , he thinks bitterly.

"I'm not going to force myself on him Scott," he sighs. The alpha sputters, mouth opening and closing like he's trying to say something but the words won't form. Uncharacteristically Scott flails his arms in frustration and shouts.

"Well....." he huffs, hands fisting on his hips. "Why not!"

Derek doesn't growl, he snarls and throws his whole body at the guy until he's pressed into the wall and Derek is ready to rip his throat out for even implying that-

"That came out totally wrong," Scott defends, palms up as a show of submission. "I didn't mean- What I meant was- I just think- Argh!"

"What Scott," Derek hisses into his face, forearm pressing against his throat.

"Why are you giving up already?"

Derek sighs, draws away from him and he focuses on his thoughts, tries to figure out how to put the words together and explain but it's... he doesn't have the necessary words and that's frustrating because Derek speaks six different languages.

"Derek," Scott sighs when neither speak for several moments. "Have you tried just, I don't know, flirting with him?" The alpha winces, like its painful for him to do this and in all fairness Derek has to give it up for the guy. He's never been Derek's fan and yet because he thinks he'd be good for his best friend he's really trying.

Derek of course gives in to what Stiles liked to call Scott's puppy face -I was calling it that long before he'd been bitten Derek, I'm not stopping- and the next time the pack has a night he tries it out.

It does not go well and by the time the pack is settled, Stiles looks unhappy. He commented on Derek's physique so in turn Derek winked, he felt stupid but Allison gave him a thumbs up so he ignored the mocking grin on Erica's face. Later, Stiles told him he looked incredible in the Henley he'd worn probably a hundred times before so Derek mentioned that Stiles eyes really lit up when he was wearing the purple jacket he'd come in with.

Each time Derek tried to flirt, because let's be honest he knows he was failing, Stiles face would do this thing, his eyes would narrow slightly and his lips would purse. Scott nudged him later when Stiles was bent over the DVD player and made a suggestive face and that's when Derek harbored all regret for having stayed involved with them all these years. Clearly none of them grew out of their teenage years, a point that was really driven home when Isaac waggled his eyebrows when Stiles stretched as he stood back up and his shirt rose up revealing the trail of dark hair that disappeared into his jeans.

If Derek survived this night, he was absolutely going to go out to that bar four hours away, drink himself stupid and sleep with the first person he could find. Maybe it'd take the edge off if he just got laid.

Erica tells Stiles he's a tease and he looks flustered, color brightening his cheeks and his eyes flick to Derek briefly, the wolf stops breathing.

"Wh-What?" Stiles rubs the back of his head as his eyes look away from everyone.

"Oh come on," Erica purrs. "Bending over, stretching to show yourself off. Tease."

The smell of embarrassment wafts off the guy and he busies himself with collecting up trays and bowls as the movie starts. Erica is practically cackling beside Lydia and Boyd and Derek shoots her a threatening look before following Stiles out with the cups. He isn't actually doing anything in the kitchen when Derek walks in, he's just leaned forward against the counter and muttering to himself.

  
Derek steels his emotions, "Erica is the biggest tease in that room, don't let her get to you." He hears her mock offense and smirks, Stiles says nothing.

"Look," Derek sighs, scratches at his beard. "You aren't, you know, she just likes to pick on you."

"I know," Stiles finally says and turns around, his face is still bright red.

"Coming back out there?"

"In a minute," Stiles breathes out slowly and crosses his arms over his chest. Derek moves closer and then stands beside him, the shoulders brushing.

"You look nice tonight," Derek swallows and feels like an idiot because really? The man is embarrassed and he decides to try to hit on him some more?

"Why are you-" But Stiles stops, eyebrows furrowed like he's contemplating the right phrase.

It never happens, of course, because Stiles phone rings and it's his dad and they both just gravitate back to the living room with everyone else.

Derek hates flirting, hates this pack, hates this loft, hates movies and pack night and everything, just everything about the stupid things he feels for Stiles freaking Stilinski. The last movie was filled with innuendos from the stupid pack that Derek will never again admit he's involved with and the more Derek tries, and really he's at fault to because he definitely tries some more, the more pissed off Stiles seems to get. The embarrassment went out the window long ago and even when Derek tries to be cute, tries saying sweet things to make Stiles feel better, it only seems to fuel the fire.

Stiles stays again, Derek was expecting him to be the first to leave but no, no he sat, arms crossed on the couch and scowling as everyone slowly left. Scott gripped Derek's shoulder, gave him a sympathetic look and then left.

It was just he and Stiles.

"Did you uh, just wanna crash here?" Derek asks, awkwardly. Stiles scoffs but doesn't reply and Derek figures fuck it, one last attempt. "You can sleep with me," he tries to sound appealing, inviting.

Stiles snaps.

"All right," he hisses as he gets to his feet. "I'm done," he strips off his shirt. Derek is frozen because what? What?  
"Take off your pants," he demands as he unzips his own.

Derek wants to, no one will ever understand how fucking badly he wanted to rip his own pants off the moment Stiles commanded him but he's frozen, stuck, brain dead or something. All he does is watch as Stiles strips down to his boxer and then strides forward with a determined look.

"Come on big guy," Stiles grits. "Remove your clothes, let's do this."

"Stiles," he says dumbly, staring in those golden globes. "What're you-"

"All night," he snaps. "All frigging night you've been, I don't know," he throws his hands up and good Lord he is basically naked. Derek's brain might go offline. "Flirting or suggesting and then everyone is," he grunts as his hands fall down.

Derek's first thought is that maybe he finally can touch him and not feel terrified but the other part of him, the part that started wanting so much more locks his hands in place because Stiles doesn't smell like want and desire. He smells like frustration and arousal and.... Derek can't. He sighs dejectedly because he can't have him one night, he can't touch, taste, hold for only one night and never again. Derek takes a step back, cards a hand through his hair.

Stiles scoffs, "That's what I thought."

Derek watches while a lump forms in his throat, Stiles picks up his clothes, slips into his jeans, tugs his shirt on. _It's for the best_ , he tells himself, because this can pass and they can move on from the tension and go back to the routines they set and just be okay.

Stiles sniffles as he goes to tug on his sneakers and Derek bristles, he shouldn't be crying. Why was Stiles crying?

"Stiles?"

"I'm fine," he snaps as he wipes at his nose.

Derek is pushing into his space a moment later, turning him to face him and forcing him to look him in the eyes. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he shakes his head, pulls away.

"I can't," Derek forces out, eyes shutting tightly because this is his fault, it's always his fault. "I can't do the one night thing with you, I'm sorry if I- If I- Well, I don't know what I did exactly but I'll fix it."

Stiles shudders, takes a deep breath but doesn't move, "was I- Was I taking it wrong earlier? You weren't flirting?"

They might as well get this out, might as well talk and just get everything out so they can move past it. Maybe if he says it out loud, Derek can let go.

"I was trying to," he admits, scratches his head.

"Why," Stiles glances up.

Derek huffs, blows air out between his closed lips, "Because I- I really wanted to-"

"What, if you don't wanna fuck me then what," Stiles sounds brave now.

Derek smirks and speaks before he thinks, "Oh I wanna fuck you."

Stiles eyebrows shoot up and his eyes widen, the heady smell of arousal rises again and Derek swears he has to have the best self control of anyone. "I just don't only want to fuck you."

The younger man is definitely confused awhile, his brow draws together and he looks like he's trying to solve a puzzle that's missing three pieces. It must click though because his eyes widen again and his mouth fallen open. "So the flirting?"

"I'm not...good at that but Scott thought-"

"Scott?" Stiles questions and then laughs, full belly rolling laugh and he clutches his side. "Why would you listen to him?"

Derek growls, "He's your best friend!"

"Yeah and I clearly need to put in a petition for a new one since he neglected to tell me you wanted this," Stiles gestures to his body.

Derek rolls his eyes, "In all fairness, I never actually admitted to anyone. They just....knew."

"They," Stiles laughs harder. "The pack? The pack knows? Oh my God!"

"I'm glad this is so amusing," Derek flushes and storms to the kitchen.

"Derek! Hold on," Stiles chases after him, still barefoot. Of course, that's how he stubs his toe on the kitchen cabinet and yells out in pain. Derek, having not witnessed it, immediately rushes out in worry.

"What happened?"

Stiles sits on the floor, holding his toe, "I stubbed it."

Derek rolls his eyes and sits down in front of him, pulling his leg over and making sure the idiot didn't fracture it. He huffs as he holds Stiles foot and draws a little of the pain, he can feel his eyes on him.

"Derek," Stiles says softly, touches his hand, the wolf tenses. "Come on, look at me?"

Their eyes lock and Derek knows, he knows he's in love and just God, when? When did that happen?  
"I'm sorry, if I made you uncomfortable."

"Uncom- Are you serious? Derek," Stiles throws himself back in exasperation. "I've wanted to bone you for like ever."

Derek is leaning over him before he's even aware that's he's moving, his weight pressing just slightly into the man beneath him. Stiles breathing grows labored but he doesn't flinch, just keeps staring at Derek as he slowly moves a hand up and cards into his hair. Derek could kiss him, unravel him, touch him but that isn't all he wants.

He sighs, "Stiles-"

"Kiss me," he asks. "God, please kiss me before I completely lose every nerve I have."

Derek kisses him, it's light, feather soft, barely a meeting of their mouths and then he pulls away, leans his head into Stiles shoulder. He keeps carding his fingers through Derek's hair, down the nape of his neck and traces the top of his spine and the wolf feels like he's melting into the touch.

"Der-"

"I can't do this Stiles," he gets out, tries to move but Stiles wraps his arms around his neck, he let's himself be held there.

"Do what? We don't have to- I mean if you just wanna kiss I'm totally-" Stiles stops speaking for a moment but his arms tighten ever so slightly. "What do you want to do?"

Derek inhales slowly, he shouldn't embarrass himself this way, he should shake his head, move Stiles hands and get up. He should leave.

Instead he speaks, "I can't just sleep with you."

"Just?" Is that hope in his eyes? Derek wonders.

"Maybe a few years ago, maybe I could have and- But I can't now because I want...." he's panting into Stiles shoulder, he feels shaky.

"What do you want, Derek?"

"You." He feels like he just handed his soul over to Stiles, the guy could break him and he'll have to know it, know it in the way he hasn't moved, the way he's so obviously petrified.

Stiles kisses Derek this time, it's more passion, more heat as their lips work in sync. He tries to tell himself this is okay, they'll fuck and it'll be out of his system and he'll at least have the memory of the one time he had Stiles, even though it's bittersweet.

"Derek," Stiles pants after a few minutes. "Derek, I want-"

He kisses him, he shuts him up, ruts against him in hopes his dick with get with program and know that they can at least get that much but then, Stiles is pushing against his chest and telling him to stop and his brain finally comes back online. He moves at his superhuman speed and stands at least ten feet from where they were both just on the floor.

"Oh God dammit Derek," Stiles grunts, slaps a hand over his face. "I didn't want- Please come here?"

Derek moves slower and then sits beside him again, knees drawn up and his arms resting on them. Stiles sits up and leans his head against Derek's shoulder and it's....nice, it's nice to just be like this.

"I've been in love with you for a long time now."

And...wait? Derek didn't say that? Stiles said that? He glances down to the top of the guys head, half wishing Stiles could smell his confusion so he'd explain. He does anyway, because Stiles doesn't need to be a wolf to be pack and know his pack mates.

"I thought you knew, you know, because you smell emotions and what not?" he waves his hand around and Derek grabs it carefully, twines their fingers. "I figured you didn't say anything because well, you aren't that much of a dick."

Derek smirks as Stiles continues, "But I got frustrated, you're always so nice now and let me sleep over and cuddle with me on the couch and I just, it made me mad because why would you do that when you knew? So I started hitting on you so hard but you didn't stop! You almost seemed like...like you liked it when I did."

"I did," he chuckles. "I do, even if it's corny."

"See!" Stiles flails again but his hand never let's go of Derek's.

"I didn't," Derek admits. "I didn't know at all."

"How," Stiles turns his upper body to look at him.

"You always smell like arousal."

"Sweet baby Jesus," Stiles blushes, finally releases Derek's hand and buries his face in his own. Derek wraps an arm around him, kisses his temple, noses against his jaw and nibbles down his neck. "Um," Stiles swallows.

"Hmm," Derek is turning into him, pressing so Stiles lays back and he keeps his mouth on him, his collarbone, just beneath the collar of his shirt. Stiles arousal spikes and Derek's mouth waters, he licks his neck.

"D-Derek," Stiles starts to pant, runs his hands up Derek's chest. "I thought that um, oh God, that-that you didn't want to-"

"I want to," Derek's voice is husky even to his own ears. "I just don't want that to be it."

He grinds his hips against Stiles' and finally gets the moan he was chasing after, Stiles head falls back. "I want to kiss you all the time, everyday," Derek keeps talking, mouth trailing back up his neck to his jaw as he ruts into him. "I want wake up next to you, want you to cook breakfast, want to take you on dates."

Stiles groans when Derek's grinds against his hardened dick, he looks at Derek again and his pupils are blown wide. "I want to fuck you sometimes," he growls and kisses Stiles on the mouth again.

"And I want you to fuck me sometimes," Derek bites gently under Stiles jaw and the guy moans again. "But I want to take you apart more and be able to hold you after."

  
That's when Stiles takes control again, slamming their lips together and tangling them up as he gets his hands all over Derek's body. When they're both half naked and cocks straining in their pants Derek finally pushes up off the floor and pulls Stiles with him. Stiles clearly doesn't want even a moment's break because he jumps, Derek easily catches and holds him under his thighs as Stiles latches back to Derek's mouth.

They only manage to make it to the couch and by then they're down to their boxers and Derek's cock is shoving against Stiles as the human grinds himself on top of him. Derek groans, gripping his hips and thrusting up to meet his movements. He knows if he doesn't get moving he'll come before they even really begin so he dips into Stiles boxers and the moment he touches him Stiles starts panting, biting his lip.

Derek had thought of touching him a thousand times, of getting his mouth on him and it waters at the thought but he can't, not tonight at least because he needs to be touched. He frees his aching cock and takes them both in his hand then Stiles hand wraps around his as well and the friction is incredible. Stiles takes the time smear their precome over them and the slick slide is even more delicious and he bucks upwards.

Stiles mouth latches to his jaw, his neck and at first he makes these needy, mewling sounds and it breaks down to him just panting Derek's name over and over as they both work their cocks together. He can feel the tension in his abs and when Stiles starts shaking he knows he's close and they pick up their pace.

Derek comes with Stiles name spilling off his lips and Stiles arches back and shoots across Derek's stomach, he's breathing heavily and Derek draws him back to him, holds him as he rides through the aftershock. Their mess only spreads between them more and once they've settled down he easily carries a protesting Stiles to the bathroom.

The shower is all lazy kissing and soft caresses until the water starts to cool and they drag themselves, naked, to the bed. Collapsing beneath the blankets and curling around one another, Stiles spoons him and it's...nice, God is it nice.

"The pack will know when they come over, won't they," Stiles asks.

"The smell is hard to miss," Derek grins when Stiles chuckles and buries his face into Derek's shoulder blades.

"Maybe that's how we tell them?"

He knows Stiles likes theatrics but he also realizes this is Stiles way of asking what tonight means for them, Stiles heart is racing in anticipation.

"Wouldn't you rather just tell them," Derek smiles.

"Please, Scott still owes me for the months of purr torture I endured hearing about every single thing he did with Allison."

Derek chuckles and laces their fingers together, pulls Stiles hand up and kisses his knuckles before holding it over his heart. "If he must know of our sex life."

Stiles kisses his shoulder, the back of his neck, "How else am I gonna brag about you?"

"You could get a neon sign that says Derek Hale hearts Stiles Stilinski and hang it outside the loft," he teases.

"Is that a legit option," Stiles asks and Derek can almost hear the absolute desire to do so.

"No," he laughs and feels Stiles deflate. "But we can tell the pack."

"Um," Stiles pushes in closer. "What about my dad."

"On your own," Derek smiles. "I know Argent gave him wolfsbane bullets."

"He wouldn't shoot you!"

Derek waits but doesn't reply.

"Maybe but he'd use normal ones because you'll heal."

"So," Derek isn't thinking again but almost wishes he would have. "Did you sleep with Todd?"

"Todd," Stiles sounds utterly lost.

Derek huffs, "The bartending emissary?"

"Are you talking about Damien?" Stiles says through a fit of laughter and wow, Derek sure did fuck up on that name. "Were you jealous?"

Derek growls and tugs Stiles in closer, he responds by wrapping his leg around Derek's thighs and kissing his shoulder. "I never did anything with him, not from his lack of trying might I add, you landed yourself one desirable babe here."

Derek rolls his eyes in fondness but adds, "I sure did."

"You're corny!" Stiles shouts, "I knew it!"

"Stiles?"

"Yes, my adorable, corny werewolf?"

"Shut up."

**Author's Note:**

> My work is unbetaed. Feel free to tell me my mistakes.


End file.
